Misery Loves Company
by LindseyInsomnia
Summary: How did Elle recognize Sylar? Takes place when Sylar was imprisoned at Primatech.
1. First Sight

A lot of dangerous people were in the basement of Primatech Paper. Horrible people who had done horrible things. But none were talked about with as much fear as Sylar.

_Another day in confinement_, Sylar thought as he sat, meditative, on his cot, facing the rear wall off the cell. _I wonder who they'll send today. It's always someone_. Bennet coming down to interrogate him, a team of scientists to perform experiments, the occasional new recruit brought by to see him, like a display at a zoo. _Always tired-looking old men._

Who today?

As if in answer, the light in the dim cell snapped on, temporarily blinding him as usual. The door clanked open and closed, and Sylar rose from his cot to glare at today's spectator.

But far from his expectations of grey suits and grey hair, an explosion of color and life met his eyes. Like a mirage beyond the glass, a blonde girl, no older than 25 for certain, wearing a shockingly blue tank top and jeans greeted his eyes. He almost thought he dreamt that wickedly childish smile into existence.

"So you're Sylar," she said, still smiling. "The way they talk about you upstairs, I assumed you'd have fangs or something."

Sylar came back to himself, remembering to be intimidating.

"How do you know I don't?"

She giggled, a sound that seemed unnatural coming from that body.

"Daddy told me not to come down here, but I have to have **someone** to talk to for the next three weeks, don't I?" When he continued to glare at her, she simply said, "I guess you may not be the best person for that."

"Who are you?" he growled.

"I'm nobody."

"Everyone is nobody until they give themselves a name."

She smirked. "I'm Elle."

"Elle," he repeated, his features softening ever so slightly. He stepped closer to the glass, carefully absorbing the details of her face. As a sharper light threw him into relief, she looked him over and smiled more widely.

"Huh… they didn't mention how cute you are either."

Sylar's eyes narrowed. _Cute_?

Suddenly, an obnoxious beeping sounded and the girl… Elle… unpocketed a cell phone and answered the call.

"Hi, Daddy… No, I'm just looking around… Oh, okay. I'll meet you upstairs… Love you too, Daddy." She hung up and looked back at Sylar. "I have to go, but I'll be back, I promised." She smiled as she dragged the heavy metal door open and then closed again. She forgot to turn the lights off.

Sylar stared after her for awhile, then sat uneasily on his cot again. Unnerved as he was, he finally had something solid and tangible to look forward to.


	2. Best Friends

It was several days until Elle visited Sylar again. In his isolation, he started to believe she wasn't coming, or that she had never existed.

He couldn't get his mind off of her. The little smile, the vivid blue of her eyes, the childlike tenor of her voice… It may just have been the fact that she was the only person who had spoken to him like a human being during his stay here, but no matter what, she was stuck in his head.

Therefore it was a struggle to contain his enthusiasm when she walked in on his fourth day waiting.

"Elle," he greeted her pleasantly; he didn't have to turn this time, he'd starting facing the door at all times since she came. He noticed she was more subdued than last time. The smile she gave him was weak, half-hearted, and it fell away quickly.

"Hi, Sylar. How're you today?"

He cocked his head to the side, intuitive as ever.

"Is something wrong?"

With the clear air of someone who had little practice at acting normal, she shrugged her shoulders and made a futile attempt at a smile.

"It's nothing, I just got in a fight with my dad."

"Sylar slid forward on his cot, his face the very picture of genuine concern.

"What happened?"

Elle bit her lower lip and turned away, one arm across her chest as she held onto her other arm. Sylar used the opportunity to let his eyes rake predatorily over her body. Her blonde hair was gathered in a ponytail today, and she wore a light grey zip-up sweater over a pale yellow tank top. Her eyes darted back to his face, and he snapped easily back to concern.

"I don't know if I should tell you," she pouted.

Sylar stood as he spoke.

"You can talk to me about anything, I promise. Besides," he gestured around the cell, "who am I going to tell?"

Elle let out the childish giggle he remembered as she considered his words. After a moment, she sat cross-legged on the floor and brought herself to his eye level, then launched into her story.

"Okay, so Daddy sent me to talk to this guy, gave me a list of questions to ask him, told me not to hurt him unless it was **absolutely necessary**, blah blah blah…"

Sylar leaned sideways against the glass, arms folded, listening intently. He notices she talked with her hands a lot. If the glass wasn't there, she would probably have serious boundary issues.

"So I go to the guy, I ask him the first couple questions, and he freaks out and pulls a gun on me! So I'm thinking this is an "**absolutely necessary**" situation, but I guess I got a little carried away, and…" she fell silent, looking down at her hands. Sylar leaned closer.

"And?"

"Okay, I killed him," she said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes to the heavens. Something desperately monstrous flickered in Sylar's face. "Now Daddy's all mad at me, and I'm not allowed to go on assignment anymore while we're here, so I'm stuck inside this place until we leave!"

That was a frustration he could understand. He found himself wanting to put an arm around her shoulders, but that was impossible. So he said the only thing he could think of.

"I've killed people too, you know."

She glanced up at him.

"I know."

"Between you and me, it's not as big of a deal as everyone says."

She grinned like a little girl shown a magic trick. He smiled sweetly, then grew serious.

"You're like me, then."

She looked very upset for a moment… pouty, even.

"It was an accident." 

"No, I mean you have powers."

She nodded warily.

"What can you do?"

Her whole face lit up spectacularly.

"You wanna see?"

He nodded and moved back for a better view. Elle moved to a kneeling position and held her hand out in front of her, palm up, like a claw. As he watched, a ball of electricity, as blue and ominous as her eyes, started to appear and grow in her hand. Sylar watched its progress hungrily, and glanced up at Elle. Her face was full of pride and excitement in the blue glow. He looked back at the ball, his eyes full of an ecstatic evil.

_We're going to be very best friends._


	3. Dreams and Schemes

It was a long time before Elle's father called her this time, but he eventually did. Sylar almost hurt watching her go, rushing out and promising to come back tomorrow. After staring at the spot where she'd disappeared for a few seconds, he threw himself on his cot and stared at the ceiling, running over the last two hours in his mind. He could hardly believe how much he knew about her now, not to mention how little there was to know. She'd been in facilities like this her whole life. She couldn't remember her mother, or much of anything about her childhood for that matter. She thought she had the best daddy in the world, but Sylar had a feeling that she had no idea how a father should act (not that he had much of an idea himself.) She never had toys, so she played with people instead.

And her ability… now that was one he wanted to try out. He'd have to find someone else to take it from, though… he'd really rather not kill Elle.

A sudden wave of fatigue overtook him, and he realized it had been some time since he'd slept. He tried to keep his eyes open, irrationally afraid that he'd miss her when she came back, but soon he drifted into his first dream of Elle.

_They were on a beach somewhere. Not the harsh, bright beaches of the west coast. It was the way you'd imagine Greece to look like if you'd never been there. There was a light breeze, just barely enough to toss around the loose strands of Elle's hair, sometime pushing it across to obscure her curious eyes that stared out at the sea as she leaned against Sylar's chest. He had one arm looped around her waist, his fingers interlaced with hers. He looked around… it was starting to get dark, and there was no one else around._

_As if sensing this along with him, Elle craned her neck up to plant a few light kisses on his collarbone. He reciprocated by pressing his lips against her hair. Growing more persistent, she turned fully around to push him down to the ground, continuing her slow progress up his neck, and she was rewarded with an appreciative noise that came from the back of his throat. Just as he was trailing his hand down her back in search of the ties that kept her sky blue bikini in place, she whispered, her breath tickling his ear…_

"_Gabriel…"_

_He froze and opened his eyes. He was about to turn to look at her when she planted her hands in the sand on either side of his head and pushed herself up, screaming in a voice that wasn't her own._

"_GABRIEL!"_

Sylar awoke with a start, nearly falling off of his cot in surprise. When he'd righted himself, he looked up to see that Bennet had brought by another spectator. It had been him yelling.

"Glad to see you're awake, Gabriel," he smirked. The man next to him, a slightly overweight man, balding, with glasses, watched the exchange warily. Sylar said nothing, still trying to control his breathing.

"Gabriel, this is Bob. Can you say hello to him for me?" Bennet antagonized. "This is the threat that you were, no doubt, aware of. He's responsible for several murders across the country, including the Walker family and Chandra Suresh… he's been a busy boy. The cell he's in uses the dampening technology we discussed earlier, and the glass is made of a conductive material that we run a deterrent system through, in case he tries to escape while he has visitors." Bennet was clearly trying to impress this man. "We can guarantee Gabriel won't be hurting anyone again."

The word "Sylar," came quietly from the cell.

"What was that, Gabriel?"

"SYLAR!" he shouted, glaring mercilessly. As the name echoed around the cell, Bennet smiled the same way he always did, and turned to leave, Bob following him out.

As Sylar sat there, stewing in his rage, an idea, unbidden and sheer genius, occurred to him…

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: There's some shameless and blatant exposition in there that I couldn't seem to get rid of, but please forgive me. Thank you for the reviews, they keep me writing.**

**Love, Lindsey**


	4. Contact

When Elle came in the next day, Sylar was already standing, pacing restlessly, waiting for her return. As soon as he heard the door he came up to the glass.

"Elle!"

"What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, I just have an idea. Bennet was in here, showing someone around--"

"Bob?"

Sylar stopped, momentarily sidetracked.

"Yeah, why?"

"That's my dad."

"Really?" He was genuinely surprised. He couldn't image the balding man's genes could have remotely translated to the goddess before him. Elle nodded.

"He mentioned you. Said you were unbalanced." She smiled his favorite smile, which probably could have also been described as unbalanced. He returned the smile, but remembered his plan.

"Bennet was telling your father about a deterrent system in the glass. They've never used it on me, but he said the glass is conductive.

He searched her eyes, which remained confused for only a second, until comprehension dawned in them and she smiled the smile again. A moment of complete understanding and clarity passed between them, pure and unhindered. Like dancers they moved to their places, Elle kneeling down to eye level, both of their hands, his left, her right, taking respective places on the pane of glass that separated them. They remained poised for a moment, darkened eyes locked, the love of pain clear in their smiles.

"Ready?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her.

The next thing Sylar knew was a pain so complete, so omnipresent that he cried out. Every nerve ending was on fire; it was blinding, deafening, maddening. The force was enough to knock him onto his back, and then the pain ended, leaving every part of him tingling. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, then raised his head up to look at Elle.

She looked afraid, worried, for some reason.

"Too much?" she asked timidly. Sylar looked at her incredulously for a moment, then he grinned, let his head fall back, and started to laugh. He laughed and laughed, and soon Elle's girlish giggle, relieved, ecstatic, joined his. They reveled together in their madness for awhile, until Sylar pushed himself off of the ground and walked back to the glass, placing his hand in the same place as before.

"Again, he demanded, staring at his own hand. As soon as her hand moved into place, he locked eyes with her again, determined to keep his focus.

Again and again they did this, their laughter growing more hysterical each time, until Sylar had to crawl back to the glass from exhaustion, forehead pressed against the window, both palms blackened, still laughing tiredly. They didn't speak after that, they just stared at each other, occasionally laughing in respect for the absurdity of the situation. Eventually the call came, and Elle stood to leave.

"Elle?"

She turned to see Sylar forcing himself to stand. She waited, but he didn't think he had the words to say what he was feeling. So he just smiled and nodded, a mute thanks for the pain.


	5. Such Sweet Sorry

Elle didn't come back for two days. Given their previous visit, Sylar was beyond excited for her to come back. Therefore he was stunned when she came in looking dejected and sad.

"Elle… what's wrong?"

She took her usual place, cross-legged on the floor, before speaking.

"We're going home tomorrow."

"Home?"

"New York."

Sylar closed his eyes in defeat as he imagined the staggering distance between New York and Odessa. He walked closer to the barrier and looked up at Elle, whose head was bowed.

"Elle?"

She lifted her head; she was crying. The sight nearly broke Sylar's heart, if such a thing existed. He put a hand on the glass; she smiled sadly and did the same. With a meaningful look, he moved his hand to the left; she did the same. He moved his hand around on the glass until he knew she had the idea, then pulled it away, toward his face. She looked confused for a second, until he brushed an imaginary tear off of his own cheek, the magnetic force between them leading her to wipe away a real one. She laughed, but then looked incredibly angry. He searched her eyes for the reason, but before he found it, she pulled herself up off the floor and ran out the door.

Sylar stood there for a long time, confused, panicked, and angry. Where had she gone? Why hadn't she said goodbye? He pounded a fist on the glass once then threw himself onto his cot, letting misery take him.

He must have laid there ten minutes, maybe more, trying to block out the rush of emotions he felt, so unfamiliar to him, when an alarm sounded.

He stood, eyes raised to the ceiling, as if the flashing lights would give him answers. A loud bang issued from behind the door… not the door on the other side of the glass, but the massive steel contraption embedded in the cement wall of his cell. He stared at it for a moment, until it flew open in a glow of blue light, and he got a glimpse of a man in a lab coat flying back and hitting the wall.

And in stormed a blonde angel, all business and concentration, and she did not break stride until her lips were pressed against his.

That kiss was everything. It was repressed physicality; it was the sadness of their parting; it was the neglect of their respective childhoods; it was the love of two people who never knew the meaning of the word. Her arms locked around his neck like iron, his hands held to her waist like a lifeline. That moment was an eternity, a whole lifetime.

But it was a lifetime cut short, as hands tore his angel away from him and a scream escaped his lips as a syringe plunged into his neck. He heard her crying his name, and all he could think was hers, but soon he couldn't even think that as consciousness slipped away.


	6. Epilogue: I Will Find You

2 WEEKS LATER.

Elle was laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, two days after Sylar escaped from Primatech. No one had actually told her he'd escaped, but she'd managed to pull as much from her father's frantic phone calls at odd hours of the night.

She had no idea how to feel about the escape. She had so many questions. Was he still alive? Had they recaptured him yet?

Had he forgotten about her?

She closed her eyes as the question floated into her mind. He was the only person she thought she could have ever loved. She couldn't bear to think that he'd forgotten about her.

Suddenly, something caught her eye outside her window. She got out of bed and approached it cautiously. As she got closer, she saw that it was a piece of paper, taped to the outside of the window.

She opened the window, having to bend her arm at an odd angle to reach the note, but she got it, and her hands trembled as she opened it.

In something that looked horribly like blood, four words were written.

_I WILL FIND YOU._

A note like this would have scared the living hell out of a normal person, but Elle, of course, was not a normal person. She stared at it for a few moments, folded it up, and placed it under her pillow, smiling lightly to herself.

THE END.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The story isn't going to end here, I promise! I'll be writing a sequel as soon as I'm done with midterms, I'm just too stressed for the moment. But there will be more. **

**Reviews are the best Christmas presents! **


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